


Inside These Walls

by EastSunRise



Series: A Chance Of Fate [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Background Romance, Canon Rewrite, Cause Grisha's a doctor, Developing Relationship, Eren's childhood, Explaining and reimagining the Snk world, F/M, Family, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Grisha's 13 years behind the walls, Hurt/Comfort, Manga Spoilers, Medical knowledge, Mental Health Issues, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Paradise/Eldian Culture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29305035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EastSunRise/pseuds/EastSunRise
Summary: Walls: a continuos vertical brick or stone structure that encloses or divides an area of land. Built to keep out the unknown.Fate changes destiny, so Grisha Jaeger makes his way to the walls with his wife a titan, his son a warrior, and his six year old daughter in his arms.The result: Eren grows up with an older sister, and when everything goes to complete shit, he makes it out okay. For the most part. A few limbs do get cut off at some point. But, at least he saves the world. And his sister saves him.OR: Canon is rewritten, for better or worse, but hey Eren, Mikasa, and Armin finally get a responsible parental figure that actually stays alive. (Or does she?)
Relationships: Carla Yeager/Grisha Yeager, Dina Yeager | Dina Fritz/Grisha Yeager, Grisha Yeager & Original Character(s), Grisha Yeager & Zeke Yeager
Series: A Chance Of Fate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154102
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Born Into The World

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! Greetings and welcome! This story is only the first part of a, probably very looong, series. It's also still very much a work in progress so things may change (such as the title, rating, tags, etc.) If you don't like OCs I say stay and give it a shot, but that's up to you. But know: the main character of the series WILL be Eren, but other characters will be just as important. Grisha and my OC, Diana, are just here to set the background information.
> 
> Enjoy! This story will span all 13 years of Grisha's life, inside the walls, as well as his life in Liberio.

_September 21st, 826_

_Liberio Internment Zone_

She was born with soft, wrinkly skin and dark tufts of hair upon her head. The same as every other child to be born into such a cruel world. Innocent, naive, untouched by the terrors that would come. Nothing special about her really.

But Grisha knew. He knew she really wasn’t just some ordinary child. 

No, she was the subject of Ymir. She carried the blood of the king. She was their chance for a new world. She had the power to do what others never could.

Her brother would be their guidance, their prophet, their leader into the revolution. 

She would be the hunter, following her brother into the night, and rising into the morning sky, taking their people with them to a new heaven, built just for them. The unfairly judged Eldians of this punishing world.

“Can you believe it, Grisha,” Dina said, stroking the newborn’s hairless brow with feathery fingers. “Our little family just got bigger.”

Grisha had never felt as much hope as he did then, nestled in close with his family. Paying no mind that they were all squeezed onto a single bed, which was old and creaked with every movement, inside the Jeagers' clinic, one of the very few medical facilities allowed in the internment zone. It was here that the Jaeger family built their own little bubble that they were reluctant to burst.

Dina, as beautiful as the day he first saw her walk into that Restorations’ room, held their second born in her arms. A tired yet serene smile on her face, for she knew too what this meant. Zeke sat between them, eyes wide as he watched his newborn sister, all childlike wonder. The sister in question was asleep, mind somewhere no one could reach.

Grisha looked at his daughter and his son, and with surging pride, smiled in a way he hadn’t in a long time. Not since he watched Faye’s face light up at the sight of the airship, happily declaring her wish to own one just as grand in her bright, deadended, future. At that moment, nothing else mattered. It didn’t matter that they had to wear white bands around their biceps. It didn’t matter that they were imprisoned by unforgiving walls, nothing more than cattle to be herded and slaughtered. It didn’t matter that the world thought of him a devil, for nothing more than being born with the blood of his ancestors. None of it mattered, when he held his family, his hope, Eldia’s great future, in his arms.

“Yeah,” he whispered, “it has, Dina. Now, our family is complete once more.”

Zeke babbled at his sister, loud coos and eager eyes. His sister did not share the same sentiment towards him, obviously still annoyed by his earlier demonstrations of affection. Zeke looked at his father, frown on his face very much similar to one he held when he did not understand why his blocks did not hold up the way he wanted them to. He must have thought his sister was a new toy for him to play with, albeit a little more livelier than his usual toys. Then again, he only really had his blocks and his stuffed monkey, so he did not have much udnerstanding of how other toys worked. Zeke continued to poke at the baby, intent on finding out what made the new being tick. When the baby started to fuss Dina chised the boy, pushing his finger away with a stern face. Zeke whined at his mother, lower lip jutting out, before shoving his face into his father's chest.

Grisha’s heart ached as he watched his children, rubbing Zeke's back and murmuring soft words of comfort. Did he act similarly towards Faye when he first met her? Was he as curious, as mesmerised, as Zeke was? Or did he not care much for a baby that did know how to open its eyes, much less play with him? Grisha had too much pride and resentment in him to ask his parents.

“What should we name her?” Dina asked once she was sure her baby was free from the her elder brother's tormenting.

Grisha hesitated, hand slowing in its repetitive circular motions.

“I’m… not very sure, dear. You know we could never settle on any name.”

Dina hummed, eyes averting to the side, rocking their daughter side to side. Grisha watched her, knowing she had more to say.

“Do you have something in mind?” He asked.

Dina glanced at him, eyes wide, before pursing her lips. 

“Well,” she begins, “I thought, you might like to name her after… after your sister. Faye.” 

“Oh,” Grisha’s eyes widened. He stared at the wall parallel to the to their bed, jaw tight and teeth aching. Dina quickly noticed her mistake and quickly retracted her statement.

“Of course, it’s only a suggestion, dear. You know you don’t have to name her after her. I just thought you might want to. After all, I know how close you were with your sister.”

“No, no. It’s alright, Dina. Honestly.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around her slim shoulders in comfort, though who the comfort was for he was unsure. It wasn’t like he had never given the idea much thought. He had, on multiple occasions, infact. Yet, each time, something stopped him, and he quickly gave up on the idea. It felt… cruel to give his newborn child his sister’s name. His sister who had suffered so much in her young, severely young, life. Living inside a gray prison, too scared to venture out without any pressure, only to be cruelly murdered by their enslaver at the age of seven. Who was he to share her pain with his daughter, his sweet, innocent daughter that had only taken her first breath mere hours ago?

Zeke fussed in his place, the child still upset with having his playmate (or in this case: playtoy) taken away. His sister started to dose off once more in her mother's soothing arms. Grisha shifted the toddler on his lap, handing him his cap, and watched him be momentarily be intrigued by the fabric and texture of it. 

Children were very impressionable, especially the younger ones. If he were to give his daughter Faye’s name, what impression would that leave on her? What impression would the world see on her? A devil disguised as an angel, or a hunter claiming her rights?

No. Faye’s name was too tragic, held too much history, too much pain. Hell, Grisha could barely utter her name out loud on average days. For his daughter to become strong, she needed a powerful name. One that fits her well, fits her role in this world.

“I’ve thought about it before, but it doesn’t seem right.” He looked at his baby, eyelids lowering, facing going slack. He felt old just then. Dina stayed quiet, listening as she shifted the sleeping child.

“Our daughter, she and Zeke are going to change the world. We both know that. They’re going to avenge Faye, avenge Eldia, and every Eldian that has ever suffered at the hands of cruel Marleyians. I don’t want our daughter to learn about her aunt, and believe the same will happen to her. That she too will share the same fate as-as Faye. Because it won’t.” Grisha fisted the blanket that lay by his thigh. He raised his eyes, the familiar feeling of fire erupting in his chest.

“We know that will never happen. Not to our children. Because they’re special. They share your blood,” he said to Dina, eyes connected with hers, voice a quiet murmur as he whispered their secret.

“They share the blood of the royal Fritz family, and so they will rise above everyone else. They have what it takes to fight back in ways the rest of us Eldians never could.”

Dina smiled, the same smile she had given him when he stood with her in front of their fellow patriots and declared he wouldn’t rest until Eldia had been returned to its rightful place. Grisha smiled back, eyes fierce, his heart a blazing hearth. He returned to his daughter.

He remembered, suddenly, a small folk tale his mother had told him and his sister. The two had snuggled together on a bed, seeking one another’s warmth in the harsh winter. His mother had sat with them, smiled willfully when Faye asked for a bedtime story, and began to spin a tale of an unforgettable woman.

_“It was said she held the strenght of a hundred men in the palms of her hand. Her strength let her sail the trickiest seas, climb the highest mountains, ranger through thickest of forests, and weather through the harshest seasons. And everywhere she went, she would save. Save the poor, save the sick, save the suffering. She gave out kindness through every breath. She spoke with a melody no one could replicate, a song of honey and sugar. They all praised her, loved her, cherished her. Yet, she would never stay for too long. For she had a home to return to, parents to hug, siblings to tease, friends to reminisce with, a love to kiss, and children to cherish. But, she was never forgotten. For she was too unforgettable to ever truly forget. Everywhere she went, the people, the animals, the land, they all remembered her name. And in their times of need, they would whisper it, like a soft prayer. They would say: ‘oh benevolent, oh kind, oh kindred--’”_

“Diana.”

Dina looked up from her one sided conversation with Zeke, “Grisha?”

Grisha blinked, mind drowsy from memories of the past. He never did well with memories, especially not ones of his estranged family. But. _But_.

“Diana. We should name her Diana.” He smiled at his wife, his love, his chosen partner in this divided, undesirable world. Dina murmured the name under her breath, twisting the syllables as if tasting them.

“I like it,” said Dina, the ocean falling from her lips, roses on her cheeks, and the sky, endlessly breathtaking, in her eyes. Grisha felt his chest open up in a volcanic eruption. Their little bubble seemed to fill with heat and energy, warm and electrifying, and Grisha never wanted to leave it. Never wanted to burst it and realise what lay outside.

Zeke yawned from where his head now rested on Grisha’s chest, rubbing at his eye, and the moment shifted. Husband and wife looked at their children. They knew now that the future was a bright light in a dark tunnel, and their children would be their torch carriers until they reached that light. Until they reached that beautiful sight, of Eldia, of heaven, of freedom.

“Zeke,” Grisha said softly, “meet your sister. Diana.”


	2. Carla's Interlude - Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carla's interlude, where her life before Grisha arrived at the walls is explored. Who was Carla before those 13 years? Why is she who she was during those years?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I will be updating once a week, most likely on Wednesdays and/or Thursdays. So expect one chapter a week, unless something throws me off.
> 
> In this chapter, WE HAVE CARLA! AKA. THE BEST MOM, or well who she was before she was Eren's mom. You'll meet some new and old characters, most are new though. 
> 
> Enjoy!

_March 30th, 830_

_Shiganshina, Wall Maria, Pxxxxxs_

Carla woke up early that day. Just like she woke up every other day. 

She did so because she wanted to watch the sunrise. Or at least that’s what she’d like it to be for. 

The true reason was that Carla simply had to tend to the bar _,_ get it prepared and ready for opening. While not many came to the bar before noon, it was still a hot spot for adolescents and many, _many_ Garrison soldiers to come and have a bite, or in the soldiers’ situation; a drink. Preferably with large amounts of alcohol. 

Now, of course there were other workers who could take the tedious job of waking up at the crack ass of dawn to prepare the bar. But, well, Carla sort of liked doing it. No matter how much she complained about the early-ness and how _tired_ she was, getting up gave her many benefits.

For one, she got to see the sky change colors as the sun rose. _That_ was her favorite part. She got to watch the fading black, squints of purple, rising red and orange, and finally, the golden sun peeking behind the walls. 

Second, she got more hours of the day. Carla got to see more and more of life as she walked to her job. Had more interactions with more customers. Said more hellos and good mornings. Got to see life pass on by, content and happy. Just the way she liked it.

Thirdly, and most important of all, she got to get out of the house before her mother started ranting to her about “settling down with a nice young man and raising a family. For walls’ sake, honey, neither of us are getting any younger. I need those grandchildren before I pass on, you know!” Which was completely hypocritical in Carla’s opinion. Like come on, her parents didn’t even have _her_ until they were both in their mid thirties. Not for a like of trying, mind them, but still. They got to enjoy their lives for some time, and Carla was going to do the same. 

There was no need to rush into marriage or children. Life would take her there eventually, just not now. 

She was up and about, the clock on her wall, old and creaky so it had to be oiled repeatedly, striking six o’clock. Time for a new day. She began to prep and dress herself. Running through her everyday routine. Nothing out of the usual. And, of course, as was per usual, she was unable to tie the back laces of her corset. God, if only the one with the front laces hadn’t gotten dirty from yesterday’s incident.

And as was also usual, her father, after having knocked and let in, gave her a humorous smile before taking the laces and fixing it for her.

“You never can get the hang of this, can you, Carla?” He teased her. Carla only huffed at him through the mirror she stood in front of, her father behind her tying the laces.

“There’s just so many loops and holes to fill, and I can’t even see it without breaking my neck. Also, it causes my hand to cramp doing it at such an angle.”

Her father laughed as he finished with a knot. “Well then, it’s a good thing you have your dear old dad to fix it up for you.”

Carla kissed her father on the cheek as a ‘thank you’. “Mom is still asleep, I hope?”

Her father let out an exasperated sigh, raised his hands up to the ceiling, and said with an air of blissed drama, “Yes, thank the heavens and three walls. Now you, my blessed daughter, can go about your morning without your well meaning mother restricting upon your freedom! Oh, how the goddesses have favored you today!

Carla rolled her eyes and turned away from her father’s teasing grin. She looked in the mirror once more, taking in her appearance: simple, beige skirt, white blouse, red corset, and short hair curling around her ears. She had her fathers eyes, both color and shape. But the rest of her was all her mother, from the slope of her nose to her chin. Her heart quivered.

“No. I just think she deserves more rest. You know she hasn’t been as well since the last time you two fell sick.”

It’d been some months ago, when both her parents fell ill. It was a common sickness, really, something akin to the winter cold. But, her parents, in their older age, succumbed to it more easily, and fell much harder than others would have. Her father, strong as he was, was able to pull through and be up on his feet in a matter of weeks. The most he suffered after was the occasional chest wracking cough.

Her mother, though, was bed ridden for two months before she truly got better. And even now, she ached at times and wasn’t able to move as much as she used to. Maybe that was why she was constantly questioning Carla about her future. So she could see her daughter settled down and at peace before she passed on.

Her father’s grin lowers into a softer one as he meets her gaze in the mirror, his eyes held a melancholy light in them.

“Come on,” he spun her by the shoulder to guide her towards the door. “I set some breakfast down for you, best you get something in that stomach of yours before you head for work. Goddesses know you’re too thin. Do you even eat at work? Or do you tire yourself too much with all the customers? I heard the bar’s become a lot more popular these days. More lads going in and staying in longer. And don’t even get me started on the Garrisons. Them and their alcohol are a match made in hell. Only ones worse than them are the MPs.”

Carla let him dot on her as she ate, hiding her smile behind a cup of tea. Her father was just as much a worrier as her mother, so it was probably for the best that she didn’t mention the onslaught for more male customers may have something to do with her taking longer shifts at the bar. Or, well, that’s what everyone on work swore by, smirking at her blush and scandalized look when they brought it to her attention. Said it was part of her “natural charm” and her eyes were just too breathtaking to ignore. And now every soldier, worker, and civilian, with hearts in their eyes, gathered around for a chance to talk to her.

She thought it was all garbage and rumors being recycled through their mouths, and she’d told them as much. She didn’t have much time for all that attention, nor did she have the heart for it. Not now, when her family needed her most.

After a short, much too short in both hers and her father’s opinion, breakfast, Carla waved goodbye at the steps of her home, and walked off.

She made her way to the bar, settled in the heart of the town. Unironically, it was only two buildings down from the Garrison’s office and holding cells. Perfect place for a bunch of freshly off duty, and still on duty, soldiers to come to and relax. And get very drunk.

_**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~** _

_“Diii-ing! Doooooong!”_

The sound of a bell rang throughout all of Shiganshina, sounding the opening of the gates and the return of Survey corps from their expedition. Their embarrassingly short expedition. They had only left yesterday at noon. That meant they’d left for less than twenty four hours. And more than likely, with less than half of their members.

Honestly, it was a wonder they still had members, what with how many they lost with every expedition they went on. Even of a wonder was how they kept gaining members. How could people see the endless deaths and still want to continue on marching to their deaths? Was living not enough for them? Were they really that curious as to what lay beyond those walls that they would sacrifice not only their own lives, but the lives of their comrades, to find out?

Carla sighed as she continued her walk. She tried not to think about the Survey Corps often. It only caused her more headaches and slight anger whenever she thought of the meaningless deaths they caused. She walked up to the door of the bar, keys in her hand. How Keith could continue on being a part of all that madness, she did not know.

She paused in turning the keys in the lock. 

Keith.

_Oh Keith, you idiot. You better be alive still._

Carla wondered if he was riding through the town right then. Sat on his horse, a look of defeat and shame on his face. Or was he nothing more than an empty corpse, left behind in the grasp of a titan? What if he hadn’t returned this time? What if his foolishness finally caught up to him and he was dead? What if--

“Carla! Are you going to open up or are you just going to stare into oblivion all day long? Not that I mind, it’s just I’d much rather you do this inside where people won’t stare at the strange woman standing in the entrance of the best bar in town. Not good for business, you know. Or for you.” 

Carla jumped at the woman’s voice and quickly spun around, only to come face to face with a familiar redhead. 

“Oh, Martha, my walls! Speak a little softer, would you? No need to yell my ear off like that.” She puts a hand against her bodice as it rose up and down. “I don’t know how Hannes deals with your yapping, especially in bed. Actually wait no, do _not_ answer that. I shouldn’t have even asked.” 

Martha lets out a loud laugh, similar to the ding-dong of the bell. “Oh, trust me. Hannes likes my ‘yapping’ very much. Especially when it comes out in the form of his name.”

Carla grimaced in clear disgust at her word and turned around, ignoring Martha, to unlock the door and walk into the bar. The woman was never shy about her nighttime activities, and was more than willing to share them for free. Carla often questions the sincerity of all her stories, and in the privacy of her mind wondered how Hannes got it up half the time; the man spent his time more drunk than not. Not that she’d ever bring up the fact to either of her friends’ faces, walls know the reactions she’d receive. It was best to just never bring up that subject, to save Carla’s sanity and Hannes’ dignity. Martha was unsavable at this point.

“I don’t want to hear it, Martha. Keep whatever the hell it is you and your husband do in your bedroom there, _in your bedroom_.”

“Oh, please. You should know me better to know sex isn’t strictly in the bedroom for us. In fact, our favorite spot is right behind--”

Carla slammed the door in the redhead’s face. Martha’s guffaws bounced off it and Carla tried not to slam her own head into the door next.

“I said I didn’t want to hear it!” She yelled at the door. 

“Sorry, sorry. I am just kidding, you know. That’s not where our actual favorite spot is.”

“AGH!”

After a few more moments of jests and scolding, by the walls Carla was starting to sound her mother, the barmaids quieted down and began to work.

The bar was spacious, yet cozy in the simplest of terms. Not very grand, no gold decor that spoke of riches and power. Not that it needed to be. After all, the real gold was all in the booze and food they offered. The customer service was also a nice plus.

Tables lay around, those would need to be wiped, and chairs stacked atop those tables, those would need to be set now. The windows would need to be opened, to air out the nights mellow smell and freshen up the room. The bar island was sticky with the spills from the previous night (also why her favorite front lace corset was out of use), as some men just couldn’t find their decency and acted like ravenous animals whenever the moon was out. Behind the bar were isles of booze, the owner, Rufus, having shipped some from the interior. Although most of it was cheap, made in an old farmer’s backfield, kind of booze. To the side of the island was a door, which led to the kitchen, small and steaming of heat more than half the time. 

Carla liked the bar. There was always life inside of it, whether rowdy and loud or just peaceful and calming. She liked being a barmaid. Going around, in a little intricate dance, weaving between tables and customers, taking orders, back talking to idiots who deserve to get a boot up their ass, nagging Martha to not spill the drinks and sassing Eli, the cook, to _hurry up there’s no way it takes that long to cook that toast_. And best of all, she did all that without a care in the world for what lays beyond the bar’s doors. At least until her shift was over. 

Then she’d return to her shared home with a pair of worrywart parents. But before that, she got a taste of sweet, sweet freedom, all in this bar. 

“Where should we start off today, Carla?” 

Carla threw a wet rag at Martha, smirking when it smacked her in the face. “Where we always begin, dear Marty. I set the chairs and you wipe the tables. Then we’ll open the windows, freshen the room up, give the floor a quick sweep, and then wait for Marcus’ slim tush to walk in through those doors.” 

Martha gave her a confused look, “Remind me again why we open the windows _after_ wiping the tables? Won’t that just bring in more dust and take away from our work?”

“Well, the tables are going to get dirty regardless, what with drunken men and their insistent animalistic behaviours of not knowing how to hold their damn drinks without causing a splash. So we just wipe them down so we do actually do it whenever Rufus gets on our case.”

“Ah, yes, that makes sense. Although Rufus doesn’t seem to be making as much of a fuss over the cleanliness these days. Actually, Rufus rarely comes to the bar at all, now, except for the Sunday pay. You think he’s got a girl he’s trying to swoon?”

Carla snorted, setting down her third chair now. “Rufus? Walls, no. What woman would go for a man that can barely trim his beard or pluck his eyebrows.”

“That’s the kind of man Silvia settleted for, as did Nicholas, although Nick is a man,” Martha remarked with a shrug, “Also, Rufus isn’t that bad. He’s very sweet and understanding. He gave me last Wednesday off when I asked, _with_ pay.”

“He only gave you the day off because you drowned him with multiple rounds of our strongest alcohol right before you asked. Also, he’s sweet, but he’s got nothing in the head. All clouds and endless sky up there.” 

Carla huffed as she settled another chair, and bit back a groan when she realised they’d only done half of the bar. Carla always suffered so much in the mornings. She was depleted of energy, of human interaction (that didn’t include her teasing father and boisterous coworker), of some peace and quiet (She loved Martha but the woman did not know when to stop), and of walking through town without hearing that stupid bell go off. That damned thing brought nothing but trouble, as did those gates. Why did the last of humanity create walls with openable gates if they were trying to keep out the deadly titans? Was that just an invitation for death and suffering, _‘yes, hello! Please come right through us at any time! Humans, titans, who cares? As long as death and suffering comes along with you, we’re more than welcoming.’_ Maria, humanity must have been very stupid one hundred years ago. 

Martha gave a long suffering sigh and wiped her brow, then shrieked when she realised she’d done so with the dirty rag. Well, maybe humanity was still stupid today as well. Of course, Carla said that with all the love in her heart, as she laughed at her friend’s expense. Martha only glared at her before a sly look came upon her face.

“Tell me, Carla,” She leaned forward across the table and wiped at a nasty spill, “is the reason you’re so _infuriated_ ,” a wily smirk, her eyes raise to meet with Carla’s, “with our dear Rufus simply because you’ve taken a fancy to him.” She pulled away with a bowel of laughter when Carla swung forward.

“Don’t be stupid now, Martha,” She snarked, moving to another table. “I haven’t taken any kind of fancy towards _Rufus_. Nor will I ever.”

“Sure, sure. And I'm a naive virgin.”

Carla tried not to take anymore notice of Martha as she went about the rest of her work. Clearing the tables, opening the windows, checking the bar and alcohol. About thirty minutes after the two barmaids had gotten to work, Eli, the cook, walked in on Carla trying to choke Martha with her own apron. The tall, long haired cook had only sighed before they broke the pair up and set them straight. 

Carla found herself relaxing as she settled into her work regime. She and Martha twirled between customers, orders balanced on trays, back and forth as noon struck and rush hour began. 

“A cup of the good stuff for me, Carla!”

“Me, too!”

“Can you bring over some of those sweets of yours?...Uh, my bad. I meant the pastries, not your, ah, assets, ma’am.”

“Hi, Carla. Just a pint for me.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back with you--Keith!”

Carla felt whiplashed when she spun around to look once more at the man before her. Short dark hair in need of a combing and light colored eyes that seemed more sunken than usual. Carla smiled widely at Keith, relief and happiness in her heart at the sight of the familiar, _living_ man.

“You’re back! That’s great!” Keith smiled back at her.

“Yeah, I’m back and I decided to come down for a drink, just like always.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re alive. I would’ve hated having to go to your funeral, especially since there probably wouldn’t even be a body.” Yeah, probably not the best thing to say to a man who just came back from the gates of hell after watching his comrades die. Keith’s face fell slightly and Carla quickly tried to take back her words, but he only shook his head.

“It’s alright, I know you’re not very fond of the Survey Corps. And don’t worry, I won’t be trying to recruit any of your customers. At least, not this time.” He joked a more pitiful smile and Carla had the urge to look away. That was the smile of a half dead man.

“Either way, I’m sorry, you’ve been through a lot today.” Death was still horrifying, because it took away the most delicate thing from people. Life. There was no need to be carelessly cural all because of her own prejudices.“Have a seat, settle down and relax. I promise I’ll be right back with your drink.” 

Keith nodded before sitting at a clear table. Carla began to walk away when he called out to her and veered around with a questioning look.

“It’s good to see you, again, Carla.” It’d been weeks since Keith had last visited the bar, most likely busy with preparations for the expedition. Carla daresay she kind of missed seeing such a familiar face, she always was such a sucker for them, even if this one was stupid enough to be a part of the Survey Corps. 

Carla smiled, gentle and small, “It’s good to see you as well, Keith. And, welcome home.”

She turned before she saw all of Keith’s reaction, not paying it much mind. She settled on getting his drink and finishing the rest of her shift. And maybe then, she’d have time to catch up. For now though, she had other matters to do.

As she prepared Keith’s drink, Martha passed by her, giving her a grin, “All better now?”

Carla paused her pouring of the booze and looked at her friend as recognition dawned on her. 

“You were trying to cheer me up?” Martha shrugged, smile still at her lips, eyes with a light gleam.

“I know how you feel about it all, the Survey Corps, the expeditions, the deaths, and your worry for your little acquaintance over there. Just wanted to take some of it off of your shoulders.” Her smile became coy as she put more drinks onto her tray. “And if I got to talk about my little fantasies while at it, well, that was just a bonus for the both of us.” She winked as she set off to where her hubby, the already drunk Hannes, was settled with some of his comrades.

Carla stared after her for a few more moments before shaking her head with a light laugh. She finished the drink and took it over to Keith, her face morphed into one of delight.

And the day went on, until the sun fell and the moon rose. Keith offered to walk Carla to her home and Carla let him, not caring if her mother took the situation to another level and began sprouting about who the man she was seeing was. _“When are you finally going to introduce us, dear?”_ Carla would only smile and laugh it off that night, because _“Keith! HA! Sorry, mom, but that man ain’t your future in law, he’s just a friend.”_ But also because it was a beautiful night. And Carla wanted to relish in it.

For who knew what tomorrow brought. Carla sure as hell didn’t. Not that she minded, really. But tonight, this day, she would enjoy it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to get a look at who Carla was, and develop her a bit more, but I couldn't figure out which chapter to publish this in. After some thought, I decided to make it the second chapter, mostly to show the different perspectives between Grisha and Carla, but also because Carla is going to be a very important character in this story, so she was introduced early so everyone knows what she was up to before Grisha came along.
> 
> I hope ya'll like Martha! Hannes has an unnamed wife he mentions like once in the manga, and my brain immediately went to that when trying to figure out what characters to write for Carla's backstory. She's very much an OC but I hope she is still loved and appreciated. Carla's parents are also OCs but they will become more fleshed out later on.
> 
> Hannes isn't here much, mostly because he wasn't really needed right now. Shadis was here to make an absolute love sick fool of himself, and I hope I did him jutsice here. He seems so caring and thoughtful of Carla in the manga, not at all how he would be look to his comrades or students, so took liberty of making him not very shouty.

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been a long awaited storm and that has finally arrived! I wanted to write a story about Grisha's time behind the walls and his growing relationship with Carla and also give Eren a responsible adult that actually stays alive for once. And while I could always rewrite canon to save the many, MANY, characters that could have taken that role, I decided to go through a different route and explore a scenario in which Grisha's second child with Dina is born and fucks everything up. For better and worse. Also, I wanted to create a character that understood Eren not in the way Levi or other characters understood him, but rather because they had grown up and practically raised the boy, so they have a very good idea of Eren's life and past. And I couldn't really do that with Carla or Shadis cause their characters just don't fit the story I envision.
> 
> Really I just wanted to give Eren an older sister that treated him in ways others did not, because he deserves it in my opinion. Don't worry tho, other characters will definitly be taken in by Diana as her psuedo siblings so Mikasa and Armin won't be missing out on much.
> 
> Leave your thoughts if you wish, I'd love to see what you're thinking! Kudos are also appreciated!


End file.
